


A Cure for Insomnia

by ravenswing019



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A little bit of fluff, And a little bit of angst, Copious amounts of tea, F/M, Haurchy/WoL if you squint, He's such a good friend, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Minor Heavensward spoilers, okay you don't have to squint that hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 09:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenswing019/pseuds/ravenswing019
Summary: Nightmares keep the Warrior of Light from sleep, but a little help from a friend might be able to chase them away.





	A Cure for Insomnia

The nightmares start immediately following the banquet. Night after night she watches the Scions sacrifice themselves for each other. For her.

During the day she puts on a brave face for her remaining comrades, but she’s afraid the lack of sleep is starting to show. She takes to wandering the halls of Camp Dragonhead to avoid waking Tataru. It is on one of these occasions that she is surprised to find that she has company.

Haurchefant sits at his desk in the camp’s great hall, reading to the light of a single candle. Before she can decide to move on, he raises his head and catches sight of her.

“My friend…should you not be abed?”

She shrugs and tilts her head at him. _Shouldn’t you?_

He smiles. “I find it simpler to read the reports from the Holy See without the interruptions that invariably occur while the rest of the camp is awake.” He holds the paper out to her, and she grimaces at the florid language before handing it back. “You see?”

She drags a chair over from the strategy table and plunks down next to his desk, watching him as he works through the rest of the reports. After what seems like an age, he sets the last one aside and looks up. If he is surprised to see that she’s still there, he gives no indication, merely rises and stretches.

“I think I’ve earned a respite, have I not? Would you care to join me for some tea?”

She yawns, but nods and accompanies him to the kitchens. Tucked out of the way of the few kitchen staff preparing for the next morning’s meal, Haurchefant prepares tea for the two of them. It is a special blend created by House Fortemps, he explains. She dozes as she watches him, but the flicker of a nightmare means her rest is short-lived.

She takes the cup he hands her, has just moved it to her mouth, when (Blood-red wine on the rich carpet. The clatter of Nanamo’s fallen crown) she can’t bring herself to drink. She lowers the cup with trembling hands, eyes staring unfocused into its depths to avoid meeting Haurchefant’s concerned gaze.

She hears him cross to stand in front of her. His hands close around hers, the cup still between them as he raises it to his lips and takes a sip. She wants to slap the cup out of his hands because what if – what if…

“I will not let any harm come to you here,” he promises, and releases her, his eyes never leaving hers.

She feels the tears fall, but meets his gaze as she takes a drink.

Things continue in much the same way for the next few weeks. She watches him finish reports, then they adjourn to the kitchens for a late-night cup of tea. After, she can usually manage to catch one or two hours of relatively peaceful sleep. He says nothing about her lack of rest, though she knows he’s worried about her.

The Scions’ move to Ishgard proper brings a lack of his calming presence, and she finds herself haunting the halls of the manor after dark. Following the incident with Bismarck in the Sea of Clouds, Haurchefant remains in the city and the two of them resume their nightly ritual. Being in the Holy See leaves them without reports to read over, so they swap stories. Their respective childhoods, her adventures, the pranks his knights play on each other.

The further away the events of the banquet, the more she is able to relax. By the time he is called away to Camp Dragonhead, she is able to sleep soundly again.

The night after she returns from the Aery, worry for Ser Aymeric keeps her awake. She finds Haurchefant in the parlor. Wordlessly, he hands her a cup of tea. From the level of liquid in the kettle, he’s been there for a while.

He listens as she gives voice to her fears. That they won’t arrive in time. That they won’t be able to stop whatever Thordan is planning. That Hilda’s distraction won’t be enough. That Ishgard will tear itself apart.

He calmly gives an answer to every one of her worries, gently reaching out a hand and brushing the tears from her eyes when she finally grows quiet. They continue talking through the night until she falls asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Dawn finds them both in slumber, his head resting against hers and their fingers entwined together.

When they make their final preparations for the rescue, he reminds her that he will always be at her side. All he asks in return is that she remembers to smile for him. She is smiling now, despite the circumstances, and she readily agrees to his terms. Not even the combined might of the entire Heaven’s Ward will keep them from each other.

His words echo in her heart as she cuts a path through the Vault, her lips curved upward because after all, a smile better suits a hero.


End file.
